Effect: Before the attack, shift 3 squares. You can move through enemies spaces but you can't end there.
+11 vs AC, 1d10+6 damage and you push the target 1 square. While raging, you deal 1d6 extra damage.

+11 vs AC; 1d10+6 and an enemy adjacient other than the target takes 1d10+1 damage. If you are raging, you can add +4 to both damage rolls.

Assassin's Shroud (Free; at-will) ✦ Shadow

Range Close Burst 10, Target One Enemy you can see in Burst. Effect: I can place two shrouds per encounter. Shrouds stack. Before making an attack I can invoke my shrouds. If I hit with the attack I do 1d6 per shroud on the target, minus one shroud if the attack misses. The shroud ends at the end of your next turn.

Whirling Lunge (Free; encounter) ✦ Primal

Trigger: Your attack reduces an enemy to 0 hit points Effect: You shift 3 squares and deal 1d10+2 damage to one enemy that is adjacient after the shift.

Whirling Step (Standard; encounter) ✦ Primal, Weapon

+11 vs AC, 1d10+6 damage. Effect: I shift 5 squares, and I do 1d10+2 against one or two enemies that are adjacient during the shift.

Shrug it off (Immediate Reaction; encounter) ✦ Primal

Trigger: I am subjected to an effect that a save can end. Effect: I make a saving throw against this effect. If I succeed I shift 2 squares as a free action.

Whirling Frenzy (Standard; encounter) ✦ Primal, Weapon

+11 vs Ref or AC in close burst 1. Hit: 1d10+6 and 1d10+2 damage to each target. Miss: 1d6 damager per miss.

Furious Assault (Free when when Varak hits an enemy; encounter)

The attack does an extra 1d10+2 damage if it is a weapon attack or 1d8 extra damage if it is not.

Thunder Hooves Rage (Standard; daily) ✦ Primal, Rage, Weapon

+11 vs AC, 3d10+6 damage. Miss: Half Damage Effect: You enter the rage of the thunder hooves. Until the rage ends, I can move through an enemies space once or twice per turn. When you move through an enemies space you do +1d10+2 damage on the next attack against that enemy on that turn.

+11 vs AC in Close burst 1, 1d10+6 damage. Effect: Each target takes ongoing 5 damage(save ends). You enter the range of the crimson hurricane. Until the rage ends, when I hit an enemy with a primal melee attack power each enemy adjacient to me takes 4 damage.

Subtle Bastard Sword +1

Critical: +1d6 damage. Property: You deal an extra point of damage against enemies that you have combat advantage.

Rain of Hammers Ki Focus +2

Critical: +2d6 damage. Property: Whenever you reduce an enemy to 0 hp you do 4 damage to one enemy adjacient to me Power (Daily): Minor Action. May an at will attack vs an enemy you have already hit this current turn.

Bestial Hide Armor +1

Power (Daily): Free Action. Use this power after hitting with a charge attack. Make a melee basic attack against that opponent with a +2 bonus to attack.

Barbarian Agility

While you are not wearing heavy armor, you gain a +1 bonus to AC and Reflex.

Whirling Slayer

You gain the Whirling Lunge power. In addition, once per round whenever your attack bloodies an enemy, you can shift 2 squares as a free action and each enemy adjacient to you at the end of the shift grants CA until the end of your next turn.

Rampage

Once per round, when you score a critical hit with a barbarian attack power, you can immediately make a melee basic attack as a free action. You do not have to attack the same target that you scored a critical hit against.

Varak leaned back against the wall of the cave and inhaled deep from the thin bone pipe. His armor and blades lay nearby, his wife was stirring a pot on the fire, and his children, twins, wrestled playfully in the back of the cave. These things, they were all that mattered.

They were in Maruk Dar, the only stable home of his people. He was half-orc, his wife a full orc, and their children were theirs. That was all that mattered in this life. He was able to start of family in this place, even though he knew it would be a rare occurrence for him and his family to live another half decade. They were Ghaash’kala, Guardians of The Labyrinth.

The Demon Wastes are a cruel place. The stories told around the campfires are truth. Demons once ruled the world, and The Wastes is where they made their final stand. The Demons were defeated for a time, but they left their mark here. The land is blasted and barren, toxic and terrible. Few sane people made their home in The Wastes. The Ghaash’kala were one of them.
The demons that were imprisoned beneath the land still had a malign influence on the people of this place. Insane tribes, the Carrion Tribes, rose together in worship of them and lesser demons stalked the land as well. The job of the Ghaash’kala was to keep the horrors of the Waste inside…and to keep those on the outside, out.

Adventurers and prospectors came into The Wastes, through The Labyrinth, among other places. They braved the maze of canyons, despite the dangers of rockfalls, sinkholes, and acidic rain. Not to mention the demons that hide in the shadows and the Carrion Tribes. The adventurers seek the valuable minerals they call Khyber Shards. The adventurers would be warned three times to leave. If they didn’t leave when given the chance, the Ghaash’kala would make sure they didn’t walk out again. Adventurers were easy targets for demonic taints. It rarely came to that; most didn’t even make it out of the Labyrinth.

The Ghaash’kala are all warriors. His wife could wield blade as well as he, and their children were more combat ready than a typical human child. It was a hard life, and they knew they would probably fall at the axe of a Carrion Berserker or the claws of a demon. When they fall, they would join Kalok Shash, the Binding Flame. Theirs would be another soul to drive back the darkness.
Varak blew circles of smoke into the air as he finished his pipe. Standing from the fire began to strap on his armor. It was black, made from the shell of a large beetle. He examined both his blades. Similar lengths and weights but they felt different. One was shining steel, with a hilt wrapped in white leather. Simply balanced and absent of decoration, it was a fine blade, and it was enchanted with magic. The other weapon was the opposite. Black iron, it’s hilt wrapped in black leather. The blade on this one had a subtle barb near the tip. It was remarkably flexible, a slight flick of the wrist sends that barb tearing into flesh.

Varak kissed his wife on the cheek, and watched the twins playing for a moment more. It was time for his patrol in The Labyrinth. Walking outside the cave he joined the others. They were a half dozen of them in all.

They patrolled the maze of canyons for several hours, before doubling back. Something didn’t feel right. A cloud passed over the moon, plunging the terrain into dim light. Then it started, Carrion tribesmen, mostly orcs stood from the walls of the canyon. Whirling slings, they loosed the deadly missles. Grunts of pain sounded from around him as they found their mark on his companions. Berserkers came from a narrow crevasse, wielding heavy axes and rushed forward. Two of his companions, sought cover, as they hefted javelins against the slingers. The rest of them rushed the berzerkers. Axes and hammers were drawn as they charged, but the tribesmen were ready and kept them at bay with their heavy weapons.

Varak moved in, a blade in each hand. He was like the winds that scoured The Wastes: Quick, unpredictable, and deadly. He rolled between the two tribesmen, and slashed at one with his steel blade, driving him back and drawing blood. No longer fighting back to back, the tribesmen were more vulnerable. They both swung their weapons at the new threat. Varak ducked under one, and then used his heavy blades to help with momentum, quickly leapt into a backflip to vault over the other weapon. Both of his weapons found gaps in the defenses as he started the acrobatic move. One blade caught the berserker on the forehead, scraping along the bone.

As his feet hit the ground, he rolled away, towards a wounded slinger that had fallen dazed to the ground. Even as the slinger stood, he plunged his blade into it’s chest. Quickly freeing his blade, and two even quicker steps, he stepped back to the berserkers, lashing out with his black iron blade. Then he spun his blades spinning in a figure eight as they both bite into his opponents.
Covered in the blood of his foes, the enemies quickly fall to the weapons of Varak’s allies. Then a new foe appears, a demon. It was tall, nearly double his own height, and broad-shouldered. Vicious spikes dotted it’s hide, and poison-tipped tail swung behind it. It raised scimitar-like claws, and scratched the stone of the wall, leaving deep gouges. It grinned at them, showing dark fangs, and bounded towards them, ready to rip them apart.

Varak’s allies met its charge, but their weapons bounced harmlessly off its scaled hide. It grabbed one man around the throat and snapped his neck, tossing him away like a child’s toy. It knocked the other man’s hammer away with a slap of its palm and gutted him in one swipe of its claws. Varak charged, spinning around the creature at the last moment to flank as other allies closed into melee. The demon clamped it’s teeth on an allies shoulder, eliciting a scream of pain. That left an opening and Varek pinned the creatures tail to the ground with one weapon and lopped of the tip of the poisonous appendage with the other. The demon roared and slapped Varak with the back of it’s hand. Varak stumbled backward, slipping in a pile of entrails and hitting his head on the canyon wall. Darkness claimed him.

Varak woke several hours later to a fly buzzing around his face. For a moment he wondered if he was really alive. As he propped himself up on his elbows he realized he was; death shouldn’t hurt this much. A collapsed lung, and a big bloody knot on his head, but other than that, he seemed fine. His head pounded, and when he stood, he became suddenly dizzy. He retched twice as he leaned against the canyon wall. His allies were dead around him, lying in pools of blood. The demon was nowhere to be seen. Only it’s tail remained. The Carrion berserkers were dead too. Pushing away from the wall, he picked up his blades where he had dropped them. He still had a job to do. He had to follow the demon, stop it before it could escape The Labyrinth. There would be other patrols to join up with. He emptied his allies waterskins into his own, but left those of the Carrions. They were probably poisoned. Varak peeled a red scale from the demons tail and looped it through the leather cord around his neck.

Varak was a good tracker, but it wouldn’t take one to follow this creature. It’s claws left deep gouges in the land. Staying close to the canyon walls, in the shade of the rising sun, Varak walked. He would run for a while, and then slow back down to a walk. He would have to find shelter soon. The suns heat was oppressive; he would not survive without shelter.

Rounding a corner, he came upon a grim scene. Another patrol. The demon must have caught them while they slept. A sentry still sat atop a small boulder, his neck snapped cleanly. The others were still in bloody bedrolls. Their weapons stood beside them, unused. Varak said a prayer over the dead and moved on. Finally deciding to rest, Varak found a cave. A trickle of water ran down one wall. It tasted of minerals, but it was clean. Refilling his waterskin, Varak leaned against the wall, blades naked and crossed in front of him.

Varak opened his eyes suddenly, somebody was watching him. Scanning the dark areas of the cave, he saw nothing. The half-orc shivered,
he felt uncomfortably cold. Then a figure stepped from the shadows as if it was a doorway, and Varak rolled forward bringing both blades towards its neck. But the creature was no longer there. It appeared behind him, grabbed him by the shoulders and swept his legs out from under him. The creature drove Varak to the ground, still holding him by the shoulders and slammed a knee into the small of his back.
“I want to make you an offer.” The creature said. The voice sounded eerily familiar, but somehow different.

“Why would I want to make a deal with you?” Varak asked.

“If you don’t, I’ll kill you. I know how much your honor means to you. You need to stop that demon before it leaves The Labyrinth.”

“What do you want?” Varak turned so his cheek was resting on the ground, and let his gaze drift toward his assailant. He, Varak decided, was broad shouldered and wearing dark hooded cloak. Varak couldn’t see his face though.

“A trade. A piece of you for a piece of me. Power for power. You won’t miss it, I promise. You might even enjoy it.”

“Sounds too good to be true to me. I guess I have little choice though. Do it.”
The creature took a hand off his shoulder and gripped Varak around the neck and pressed hard right at the base of his skull. It burned, like a heated sword was going into his spine, and Varak screamed. It seemed like it was going on forever, then it was over. Varak spun around, suddenly aware he was free, and aimed a backhand to where he thought the stranger would be. He missed and slammed his knuckles into stone wall. He was alone.

Varak stood and brushed the dirt and dust from his armor and pants. He had rested long enough. Varak stood and walked out of the cave. Once again seeing the carnage of the battle before him, the warrior took a moment to scratch a message in the stone to his wife and twins, letting them know that once his mission was complete he’d return home. Someone would find this and tell them. Varak walked, tracking the demon to and through the mountains. Soon he crossed into The Eldeen Reaches. The forest was so different and full of life, it came as a shock. Sharn again was a shock, as he walks around the City of Towers. He needed allies. Finding and killing a demon would be a team effort.

Varak is lithe, but strongly muscled. He stands just over six feet tall and weighs in at about 200 pounds. His black hair is shaved on the sides of his head, but towards the middle it stands straight up, in a Mohawk. His black eyes peer over misshapen nose, obviously broken more than once. A pair of incisors emerge from his bottom lip. He wears the black chitin armor of a beetle. The breastplate is one single piece, but his arms and legs are guarded by several small pieces, separated by his joints to allow maximum movement. A pair of bastard swords are crossed on his back. The hilts can be seen just over his shoulders, one is shining steel, the other is jet black iron. A simple knotted loop of leather with a red scale sits around his neck. His arms and shoulders are crisscrossed with old scars. A swirling pattern of a dragonmark lies on his right shoulder, under his armor.

Life outside The Demon Wastes is confusing and overwhelming at the same time for Varek. It seems he may be stupid, because things are so alien for him. In his limited experience, he has learned about the dragonmarked houses, and thus keeps his dragonmark hidden. Varek isn’t afraid to say where he is from, and warns others from going there. He speaks warmly of his wife and twins. He doesn’t want to return to them as a failure, so finding the demon that escaped is a priority. He sees fighting evil outside of The Demon Wastes as a suitable way to pass the time while demon chasing. Every evil creature that falls is one less that go after his family.

Barbarian Agility: While you are not wearing heavy armor, you gain a +1 bonus to AC and Reflex.

Whirling Barbarian: You gain the whirling lunge power. In addition, once per round when your attack bloodies an enemy, you can shift 2 squares as a free action, and each enemy adjacent to you at the end of the shift grants combat advantage to you until the end of your next turn.

Rampage: Once per round, when you score a critical hit with a barbarian attack power, you can immediately make a melee basic attack as a free action. You do not have to attack the same target that you scored a critical hit against.